thirty stars but one moon
by mossdeep
Summary: A peek into Steven A. Stone's love life—and it was not always as charming as he'd thought it to be. 31 theme drabble challenge: StevenMay. [Not in order and not connected]
1. 13 waste

13. Waste

He hadn't been sure—sure wether or not his 'friend' was serious. She always was rather lighthearted and laughed with a bright smile. On the other hand, she remained mature and wise; never making flighty decisions and standing firm in her ideals. That happened to be something he admired—he actually came to realize he was fond of everything about her.

From the way that at the end of her chestnut hairs were small curls, that the deeper he stared into her ever blue orbs, they started to look as if they were gems themselves. There also were her pastel lips that tempted him so; how they curved to a charming grin. But he wasn't done—no, this young man could forever describe numerous details of the _girl_ in his life, even if he had come to a halt, he would find another, new characteristic about his unrequited love.

Unrequited, the word crushed his chest, as if it were a heavy weight swung at him then pressed. It was a waste—he in particular felt equivalent to a waste. The irony that made him blow a dry laugh was the fact she was telling him he happened to be a a waste. It flattened his heart.

"It's a waste, Steven," she began, tossing a rock over a nearby cliff. "_You're_ a waste."

The silver-haired male inhaled sharply, carefully analyzing his words before saying them. "What are you talking about?"

"You spend all this time, scouring for stones and gems. You're an incredible, powerful trainer, yet you waste it."

There she went again, it was her largest flaw. Her insane need to battle strong trainers. No one ever fazed her nowadays, she would have to chase after Steven or any traveling trainers from other regions. The girl wanted a real battle, one where she truthfully would break a sweat.

Steven sighed, patting the dust off his white dress shirt. "Why don't you travel then?"

"I've thought about it, Wally did get lucky and beat me," she continued, playing with her hands out of boredom. "Maybe I will. What about you?"

"Me? You know, I do travel—"

"Yeah, yeah, looking for stones again, I get it. Why are they so important to you?" She interrupted, frowning.

"Well…" he started, running a broad hand through his silver hair. "After I met someone last year, I've honestly grown less interested."

"Huuuh, I wonder who this person is, you should stick around them—maybe they'd help you get rid of this hobby."

"_Maybe _if I married her_—"_

"Alright!" She had interrupted him once _again._ "I'll see you, um, later. Probably not for a while." The young girl started walking off.

"Where are you going?" Steven asked, wiping dirt off his nose.

"Perhaps… Johto? I think I will travel! I'll see you again Steven, thanks for being a good friend."

The brunette smiled softly to him, he easily returned it. He steadily watched her disappear from sight, the ache in his heart becoming more painful. The silver-haired man swallowed.

"I don't think I'm the only one who's becoming a waste," he whispered.


	2. 14 love

14. Love

* * *

><p>It stood up hard against his chest, harder than any cave cliff he has climbed. It clouded his eyes, more than any fog he has withstood. It coated his body, better than the soot of a cavern's unexplored crevice. It also has left him in the dark, a place of confusion and pain.<p>

_Ah, yes,_ he thought, _pain._

The amount of misery this caused could endlessly torture one's mind and body. He tended to over think, over think many things—this caused him to torture himself evermore than it should. And when he was fed up with his thoughts, he'd furrow his eyebrows and think again: _if my father were inside my mind, he would tell me how childish I am being._

In retrospect, it might have been the opposite if he chose to confide in his father. The silver-haired man had never taken an interest in such matters—therefore, of course his parent would wonder what rate of maturity his son would stand in the subject—and Mr. Joseph Stone was prepared to welcome his child with open arms if he were ever to want to speak about it.

The young man himself was ashamed he happened to be so inexperienced. _If I had taken to another when I was a teenager, maybe I would know how to treat her far better,_ he theorized for a moment.

Treat her better? Did he not think he was enough to satisfy? Did he feel inferior? No, it appeared to be not one of those notions. He knew, it was since he loved her so. Since he ached for her skin and soul. Her soul… He smiled to himself, it danced around his heart and captured it in ribbons of her laughter.

The gentleman smiled once more, wiping a stone in his handkerchief. His eyes flashed to his pocket watch, it was four thirty-seven PM, and he wanted to see her. So he did. So he exited the cave. So he called on his Skarmory and flew to where she was.

A tender curve of his lips still graced his mouth as he approached his home. His arrival at the front door was welcomed by her content self, content because she had not seen him for a three, agonizingly long, months. She was convinced she craved his touch more than he craved her—how wrong she was.

His white dress shirt had the three top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up, his warm arms wrapped around her body, he embraced her so tight that her face rested in his chest. She softly nuzzled her forehead and nose into his neck and collar bone while his own mouth resided near her ear, he breathed in her scent. The scent he had needed to taste severely.

He cannot help it, it's what hurt him most. Stood up against his chest, clouded his eyes, coated his body, confused him and pained him. His love for her, nothing caused such trouble in his life; and nothing caused such happiness in his life.


End file.
